


Snapshots: A Second Chance

by Axel_Knochenmus



Series: Snapshots [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Eventual Relationships, Forgiveness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Photography, Self-Acceptance, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axel_Knochenmus/pseuds/Axel_Knochenmus
Summary: Blackwatch was high-fashion. The best looks needed the best models, the best equipment, and the best photographers, but when Ana announces that she's finally following through with her threats to retire, Gabriel is left scrambling to fill her place with someone suitable. Too bad he's the pickiest motherfucker in the world when it came to his work.Thankfully, Sombra has a solution. Gabriel doesn't like it, but he's going to have to work around the mess that comes with hiring Hanzo Shimada. Damn it, his skills had better be worth the trouble, or they're both going to be royally screwed.





	1. The Intern(et is a small world)

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy so I have a bunch of stories to finish but I decided to start another one! New year new fandom to work on. I will get back to my other ones but I need to cleanse my writing palate a bit because it's been like banging my head against a brick wall lately. So here I am, testing the waters a bit more on branching out.  
> I have no regrets for the terrible jokes that will follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Updated to flow better with the rest of the story. Sorry for sudden lack of updates hit a snag in the RL making it difficult to work on things, and my brain wouldn't let me work on the next part without fixing this

“I don’t like this.”

Sombra didn’t bother looking up at Gabe when she rolled her eyes at him. She’d been responding to his complaints for pretty much the same way for the past hour, and it hadn’t gotten any less annoying since. Her reassurances that everything was fine, she’d vetted all the applicants herself, and the internet wasn’t going to bite him - a statement that ticked him off, given he’d grown up around it longer than she had - weren’t exactly reassuring. He knew how easy it was to fake information and steal credit for someone else’s work online. Plenty of things could go very, very wrong.

He huffed with agitation. He wouldn’t be in this mess if Ana hadn’t decided to follow through with her threats to retire.

“You could always ask Amelie to take over,” Sombra commented drily, as if she didn’t already know that would never work out. Lacroix could be one of the best photographers out there if she wanted to be; unfortunately for Gabriel, she’d rather shoot her husband than any of Blackwatch’s models.

“You _ know  _ that’s not goi-” He cut off when there was a knock on the door. That would be the interviewee, for sure. No one else would drop in on their bosses stress rampage at this hour. Gabe straightened from where he’d leaned against Sombra’s desk, if this kid was as good as his portfolio suggested, then he needed them. He knew he tended to lean towards obnoxiously picky about everything, but given it’d kept him successful all these years, he figured it was justified. “Come on in.”

In Gabe’s book, ‘kid’ was a pretty subjective term he used for anyone twenty or more years younger than he was. The potential intern they’d brought in first was just shy of thirty, sporting an undercut with the remaining hair pulled back into a topknot, plus a bridge piercing and some small hooped earrings. He had his equipment bag looped casually, but confidently over his shoulder, and in a wa he looked exactly like Gabriel had expected: a punk dressed like a professional, who was just a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from being a living, neon picture of an amateur hipster photographer stereotype.

But looking at him now, recognizing who he was, Gabriel suddenly regretted telling Sombra that he didn’t care about any of the applicant’s names.

“Hello,” the Interviewee began politely, with a slight bow. “I am Hanzo Shimada, pleased to meet you.”

Gabriel let out a breath he didn’t know he held and turned to his assistant with a closed off stare and a carefully blank tone. “You brought in my son’s ex.”

“What?” Sombra’s head snapped up to look at Hanzo, who’d frozen in confusion. “No way, he- wait. Shimada. Genji’s  _ brother _ . Shit.” She eyed him critically, already trying to figure out how to control this.

Hanzo stepped back a bit in the face of their stares, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense, or did it? He pursed his lips tensely, as they’d brought up his brother. And an Ex. He really only had the one, didn’t he? Pieces slotted together as a creeping horror and mess of other emotions shot through him at the thought. He almost didn’t hear himself speak when he asked, “You are Jesse’s father?”

If there was anything Gabriel expected from this meeting, this probably wouldn’t have even made it on the list. Watching the interviewee pale three shades in less than ten seconds was a pretty impressive feat, and it made him feel awful for the kid. He really hadn’t needed to know how fast you could crack the elder Shimada’s composure. It reminded him of how shaken Genji was when Jesse had brought him home.

Behind the desk, Sombra made to stand, watching both of them carefully as she prepared to walk Hanzo from the building. She wasn’t exactly wrong to think the circumstances complicated things enough to warrant Reyes outright rejecting the idea, regardless of whether Hanzo’s pictures had been their top picks or not. Gabriel closed his eyes, sighed. He’s already made this choice though, and there was something in the look of the kid’s eyes that his heart wouldn’t take it back.

“Have him try out with Ana.”

Sombra raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that boss?”

“If he’s still willing to work with us, then yes,” Reyes lied. He wasn’t sure at all, but he’d tipped too much already and he knew he couldn’t be too careful. “We’re all adults here, and history is history. If Ana approves him, we’ll work from there.” He searched Hanzo’s expression, which had pieced itself back together into a cold mask that looked almost more painfully vulnerable than the brief flash of emotions before. The kid needed to recompose himself, and Reyes’s presence wasn’t going to help. He had work to do anyways, he was sure. He nodded and headed out, pausing near the kid before he left.

“Good luck, Shimada. You have some impressive work, let’s see if you’re up for the rest.”

The silence he left behind him could have stagnated forever as Hanzo-freaking-Shimada processed everything, but Sombra needed to get him down to the studio before Hana’s shoot was done. Not for the first time, Sombra wondered what the hell went through the old man’s head. She only waited long enough for her to gather up the portfolio papers she’d had on her desk and grabbing one of the employment forms. She wasn’t as paranoid as Gabe tended to be. If he’d approved the newbie, she doubted Ana would find anything wrong with him. “Alright then,” She started, drawing Hanzo’s attention from his thoughts. “If you’re still with us, I can show you down to the shoot.”

The jerky nod she got in response wasn’t ideal, but the best she could expect. Frankly, she was impressed the guy was still willing to try out regardless, so she’d give him points for brass balls at least. She hmmed as she led them out at a brisk pace, like maybe they could leave the atmosphere behind them. Hanzo hesitated for a moment, but a sharp glance like she could tell what held him had the photographer trailing behind her. He wondered what the hell kind of mess he was getting himself into this time. He wondered if this one would be worth it, or leave him worse off than he was. For the moment, he at least knew he was going to try.


	2. Dramatic Irony: A Study in Two Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six days before meeting Hanzo in the office, Ana gives Gabriel her "two weeks." Not long after that, a bunch of Photography majors discuss the impossible. (Like getting Hanzo to admit he was their friend.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, holy shit I was not expecting the response I got??? I love you guys, damn.  
> If there's something you know more about than me feel free to correct me because I'm taking a, uh, few artistic liberties here.  
> I'd apologize for the gratuitous OCs in the second half of this chapter, but I need plot devices and Hanzo needs friends.

“Gabriel,” Ana’s voice was coaxing, like she was trying to lead a small animal from its den. Or, in this case, an artist from his workspace. “Oh, Gabriel.”

Looking up from his drawing table, Gabe glared at her. She knew how much he hated it when she did that, which is exactly why she continued to do it whenever she needed to speak with him while he was working. “Ana, what do you need?”

She smiled, her motherly ‘you’re not going to like this’ placating smile which never meant anything good. “You know how I’ve been hinting about retirement for the past few years?”

He stared at her. He definitely knew about it. After how long she’d been threatening it, no one took it seriously anymore and it’d become a company-wide joke that she’d leave the company the same day that  _ he  _ did. Something that wouldn’t happen until he was physically incapable of continuing his work.

She strode over and handed him a sheaf of papers. “It’s official. You have two weeks to find a replacement for me. If you don’t find anyone before that, I’m leaving. If you do, I’ll at least stick around long enough to make sure they’re trained properly for the job. But,” she gave him a stern look. “Don’t think you can milk that to keep me longer, Gabriel. I know you and your tricks, and that’s why I’m issuing this as firmly as I am.”

“You- what.”

“And I know,” another stern look accompanied this phrase. It wasn’t that she expected the worst of him, but knew his habits when he worked himself into more desperate circumstances than he was truly in. “That you wouldn’t want to put the bulk of work on my dear Fareeha. Having just me as your primary photographer worked when we first started out, but you’ve gotten too big for just one of us, and that’s why I know and trust you to find someone suitable to help shoulder the burden.”

Gabe gaped at her a moment, looking down at the papers and back up at his friend. Confused? Yeah he definitely was. Betrayed? Maybe a little. He read through the pages she’d given him but it barely registered.

He heard her sigh in front of him. “Oh come now, you big baby. It’s not like I’m dying.” He looked back up at her. “Don’t give me that look, no amount of your sad eyes - Nor _ Jack’s _ , in case you were considering that, too - will work this time.” She set a hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead. “You’ll still see me all the time, you know that. Just because I won’t be working for you doesn’t mean you’re not still my friend, and _ family _ .”

Gabriel sighed as well, trying not to pout like a child. “Alright. But how am I supposed to find someone else? You know my... relationship with others in the industry.”

She shrugged. “Find someone new then. Ask that secretary of yours, I’m sure she keep up with early talents along with the rest of her gossip. I have faith that you’ll find someone amazing where you least expect it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Shimada!”

If Hanzo had known that agreeing to eat food with his (former) classmates  _ once  _ would lead to continuous, semi-forced interactions, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place. As it was, he finished placing the books he was returning to their shelves, and ignored Sabine’s greeting until he’d finished before turning to the grinning man. “You are aware that I am supposed to be working, are you not?” 

Sabine laughed and waved a hand at him, likely an aborted hand-on-the-shoulder gesture he’d learned to stop doing. “Ah, Miss Amaya loves us! I doubt she minds. Besides, it’s not like you don’t have plenty of time with nothing to do.”

He’d resent the implication, even if he knew it was true, but he spotted the others carrying pastry bags from the one place that he actively enjoyed the goods of. Amaya had warned him that it was the slow season for the store as it was, and their usual hours of fluctuation would stay about the same, but with less people overall until the next holidays picked back up. His classmates knew this, just as they knew when the slowest hours were, after prying the information out of him.

Della grinned from the doorway, waving one of the bags at him. The others had already headed over to the little nook set aside both for customers and employee breaks. “C’mon Hanzo, got your favorite.”

He wasn’t fond of most sweets, unlike his brother, but after a great deal of badgering to try them he’d found himself fond of the sweet strawberry-cheese danishes at the, ah, Batter Up Bakery… The owner was as ridiculous as the name, but an excellent pastry chef regardless. He sighed. “I will inform Maria I’m taking my fifteen.” He stressed the last word, as if trying to put a time limit on their interaction might actually work. (Spoilers: It never did.)

He ignored her fist pump and the group cheering from the corner as he walked back to the office, popping his head in with a knock on the frame to get his manager’s attention. “Maria, Sabine and the others are here with food, I’m going to take my break since we’re slow.”

The older woman waved a hand and winked at him. “Tell your friends I said hi. I’ll keep an ear out just in case somebody needs anything.”

Unsurprisingly, the whole crew had already set up and gotten cozy when he got back, laptops spread across the ancient coffee tables - including his own. He narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t open nor on, they wouldn’t know his password anyways, but the only reason it would have been there would be- “Landen, I remember our agreement to give you a copy of my apartment’s key was contingent on it being for  _ necessary  _ purposes only.”

“It  _ is _ necessary,” Kia interjected immediately. Pierce looked up from his own screen to nod solemnly with her. “Blackwatch opened up applications for a new photographer. We’re applying as a group.”

“Don’t worry, Hanzo, I made sure Sabine didn’t take any of your Pokemon cards.” Landen added. “You left them on the coffee table.”

“How the hell do you have some in like, eight different languages!” Sabine bemoaned. “With the limited editions!”

Hanzo didn’t dignify that with a response, taking his spot next to Della on the cracked leather couch and deliberately reaching for the pastry bag instead of the computer. “I thought Blackwatch was an ‘ _ exclusive _ ’ company.” He recalled Pierce lamenting it once before. No doubt this was Kia and his idea, seeing as most of them weren’t even fashion photographers.

Aileen hmmed agreement across from him. “I think it’s a hoax.”

“It is on their official site, though,” Landen pointed out, ever helpful.

Sabine laughed. “Even if it’s not, It’s not like there’s any chance one of us would get the job.”

Hanzo bit from his danish and looked at the others with the most unimpressed look. “Then why are ‘we’ applying?”

“Moral support,” Della answered. She smiled at Hanzo, “Live a bit with us, Han. Pierce looked like ‘e was gonna have a cow when he found out. May as well take the shot an’ miss, seeing as none of us got anything better lined up yet.”

“And I’m being dragged into this,” he grumbled. “Why?”

The collective stare he received for that was deafening.

Aileen reached across the coffee table, patting one of his hands sympathetically. “It’s okay, Hanzo. We’ll get you over your intimacy issues one day.”

“But right now, we’re supporting Pierce’s big gay crush on a married man by attempting to do the impossible,” Kia admonished, petting Pierce’s shoulder and ignoring his mildly offended look. “I’d recommend tailoring your portfolio for this, and put effort into it,” she added with a raised eyebrow. “If we stand out enough, they might send us to other agencies.”

“Besides, Han, yer a pretty amazing shot behind the lens.” Della pantomimed snapping a picture, and nudged him with a grin. “I’m sure you’d get something.”

Awkwardly, Hanzo sighed. He never understood how to deal with these people, so instead he started up the laptop to tailor his portfolio for the application. He was sure nothing would come of it anyways, so there was no harm in giving in to their persistence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief explanation of Hanzo's friends:  
> Landen Van ~~Dad~~ Daal is the group's Sane Man/DD. He has a copy of everyone's keys so he can make sure everyone gets home safe. He's also the Suburban upper-middle class "mom" of his friends. He 1000% would and HAS cussed out school official's on their behalf. His focus is abstract/optic illusion photography.  
>  Aileen North is mostly a landscape photographer who also dabbles in candids. Super sporty Cali girl through and through, does a lot of marathons and offroad cycling. She's Hanzo's gym buddy, and is slightly full of herself but if you were her, you would too.  
> Savino “Sabine” Vinci loves food. Can't cook to save his life so he settles by taking his friends out with him all the time and posting pictures on instagram. Obviously, he's mostly a food photographer.  
> Kia Bengtsdottir and Pierce Gunther are the "Mean Girls"-style power couple. Fashion photographers and best dressed of the whole crew, they took to their new friend trying to "find" himself with the enthusiasm anyone like them have when they're allowed a dress-up guinea pig.  
> Della Lansburg is Hanzo's favorite. Precious Southern Cinnamon bun too good for this world, but definitely not someone to mess with or take lightly. Her focus is candid pictures and photojournalism. She has a rather thick accent.
> 
> Maria Amaya is a middle-aged woman who runs a fusion bookstore/antique shop with her best friend, Emi. She has three kids. She adores Hanzo and his friends, but doesn't mother them bcs they don't really need it.


	3. Take a shot, now take a few more

Walking into the studio was a more daunting task with the encounter in the office reeling in his mind. Would they all recognize Hanzo for what he was? He’d never met Jesse’s family…  _ before _ . But he’d been recognized immediately. 

He never knew that the cowboy had lived in L.A., he thinks that if he’d known, he might not have come here. “Moral support” be damned he knows he wouldn’t have applied to  _ Blackwatch i _ f he knew that-

Ana didn’t know him, though, when they met. She smiled brightly like he was a pleasant surprise. And Sombra hadn’t told her anything, just his first name and the fact that she was to decide if he’d be a decent enough replacement for her. The older woman had laughed, winking at him and said that if he’d somehow gotten past Gabriel’s critical eye, she’s sure he was.

He learned a few things in that studio. Hana was cheeky, but passionate. He was told most of the models were in some way or another. They rotated models, and some worked only during certain seasons. Blackwatch had a “sister” company called Overwatch, headed by Reyes’s husband that made clothes on a more mass-scale then the specialised pieces in Gabriel’s “pet project,” as Ana called it. Ana was in her early fifties, but her gaze was as sharp as ever. 

She offered him a dark, strong-smelling cup of tea, which he politely declined. She suggested next time to bring his own. It takes the edge off, she told him. He didn’t know what she meant, but got the feeling that she could tell he was a uncomfortable.

When he went home that evening, he dropped onto his couch and stared at the ceiling. There was something to be said for being slapped in the face with a piece of your past you never expected to encounter again. At some point, Genji, he was sure would have come into play, somehow, with luck. But Jesse? His chest felt compressed. Hanzo wondered if the other man had found someone else. Nine years was a long time to move on, and yet Hanzo felt at times that he was still the same stupid  _ boy  _ as he had been at twenty.

His phone went off, and he was tempted to ignore it. It was more habit than actual will that had him picking it up and giving the caller a very exhausted, “Hello.” They were the ones calling him at... Whatever time it was. They’ll deal with it.

“... Han, are you alright?” Della’s voice greeted him with concern, and he considered.

If he said yes, she wouldn’t believe him. By the time she sounded like that, she already knew he wasn’t. Perhaps he spent too much time with them, or not enough. He remembered every detail of his day ‘til then, but it still felt like a blur, and maybe that’s what drove him to reply, “No, I don’t believe I am.”

“Right... _ fuck _ . Booze and ice cream, we’ll be at your place in twenty. Don’t do anythin’ stupid, we’re on our way.” 

Hanzo blinked at the phone.

“ _ Han? _ ” She pressed. “Ya hear me?”

“Yes?” Confusion colored his voice.

“Stay put.”

“I don’t know where I’d be going.”

“ _ Good. _ ”

There was no point in arguing, her mind was made up, and if he was honest, he wouldn’t mind the company. And if the others were there, then he could ask Pierce… He shouldn’t pry, but a deep burning regret that settled in his chest needed to know. And seeing as Blackwatch was his fond favorite, he could ask without the scrutiny of someone who knew Jesse personally.

He got himself up enough to make tea while he was waiting. He was still staring at the bags steeping in the pitcher when the group arrived. Landen abused his key, as usual, to let everyone in, armed with no less than five half gallons of ice cream and probably enough alcohol to start a bar for the night. Della made a beeline for Hanzo the second she saw him leaning by the counter. She hugged him, and he leaned slightly before giving in and dropping his face to her shoulder. Breathing deeply, he could smell the toasted hazelnut lotion she liked. It was a small comfort in his distress.

“Oh, Han,” She pet the back of his head. “I see ya got some tea for us too, huh? You want some of that before we get into drinking?”

Hanzo shrugged. He’d made it to feel moderately more useful inviting in guests, not out of any true desire.

Someone blew a low whistle out, no doubt looking at the sorry state he’d allowed with disg- “What the hell got you worked up like this?” Aileen’s concern almost hurt more.

He pulled himself upright, not realising how far he’d slumped into Della’s embrace. He gave himself a moment to steady his breathing before he asked the far wall. “Are you familiar with the name Jesse McCree?”

Pierce made a small noise, all eyes drawing to him but Hanzo’s own. “Like, the model? Blackwatch, Gabriel Reyes’s son?”

“The very same.”

There was a silence, waiting for him to continue. Kia realised he wouldn’t finish the thought first, and rolled her eyes before prompting, “What about him? He’s tacky, dresses like a cowboy when he’s not being dressed up by his father and still always has his signature hat in every shot. The same hat he’s had for his entire career. Supposedly he’s had it since he was a teenager.”

Hanzo’s mouth tipped into a bittersweet half-smile. “If it is the same, then I can say that he most definitely has. He,” he paused, taking a breath. “He and I were… involved, some time ago.”

“Oh my god,” the dawning horror in Pierce’s voice was expected. “I’m sorry,  _ shit, _ dude. I had no idea.” 

The apology was not. Hanzo looked at him with confusion.

The other man looked guilty. “If I knew your ex worked there, I wouldn’t have forced you in our group application meetup, you don’t need that.”

“What brought this up, anyways?” Kia never held back. It wasn’t that she cared less, but she always demanded to know more. Scrutiny, was her best and worst quality.

Running a hand back through his hair, Hanzo reluctantly told them. “I was called in for an interview. Reyes recognized me somehow, though we’ve never met.”

“Well,” Aileen began, heading to the bags of liquor and pulling out bottles. “If that’s the case, do you think the sake we usually get is strong enough? There was also some nice soju with a higher content, or we’ve got plenty of others. We’re moving this to the couches, because if we have any more of this talk I doubt you want to be sober for it and Sabine is a floppy drunk.”

“Hey!”

“You’re too tall, beanpole. Just accept it.”

It was an idea Hanzo was all too willing to agree to. They sprawled across Hanzo’s living area with a dozen or so bottles and some alcoholic smoothies Kia insisted on, the mint-chocolate-rum monstrosities that could drop you faster than most of the others’ preferred alcohols could when drank straight. The conversation halted while they got it all passed around and settled, it was a few drinks in before anyone spoke.

“You got an interview with Blackwatch?” Landen spoke up for the first time since arriving, having held off in the conversations to make out his own assessment. Hanzo wondered sometimes if the man plotted the murders of anyone who crossed the group behind his calm demeanor.

“I think I got hired,” Hanzo admitted.

“Even though-?”

He nodded. “I’m not sure I understand it.”

Della snorted next to him. “It’s because you’re just that good, Han. I told ya.”

“You talk about that like that’s the biggest deal here, but  _ come on _ ,” Kia insisted. “Hanzo, you  _ date? _ ”

“Really, Kee?” Aileen laughed. “That’s what you got from this?”

“He has an ex, Leen, that means he dates. You’ve been out there with us: you know the people that flirt with him – the people he completely ignores.” She spoke it like a scandal, shoving her dark hair behind her ear. “Tell me how.”

Hanzo looked at her with a slight pursed look, but her expression was invested. Whatever he shared was something he knew she would use. “He was a drinking companion of my brother’s-”

“Wait!” Pierce spoke too loud, the drink and a realisation getting to him. “Genji, Genji _ Shimada _ \- I can see it.” He marveled about this knowledge aloud. “Holy shit.”

“Yes,” the word was painfully strangled, and he swallowed another mouthful of drink to distract himself. Nobody commented. “His behavior was… looked down upon. Our family was very distinguished. Traditional. It looked bad, even if he wasn’t the heir, for the younger son to be quite so…”

“Wild?” Della offered.

A nod. “I went to speak to him of it, but I got somewhat off track.” He threw the arm not holding his glass over his head, covering his eyes. “A good Shimada heir does not flounce around in questionable bars with men dressed as cowboys. He does not flirt with any scruffy, sweet-talking flatterer who could not possibly understand what it means to be in his position. And he most certainly does not fall into bed with them, simply because they look at him  _ like- _ ... like he-” His hand shook when he took another drink, as if somehow it would smooth over what he wanted to say. “Like _ I _ meant the world to the man who truly lived in it.”

“You still love him,” Kia breathed. There was understanding in her voice, accented with sadness and curiosity. “You ended it, because you couldn’t have it. Even if you wanted to.”

“And your brother?” Della prodded softly.

“Disowned: for polluting the heir with foolish behaviors, for being a disgrace to the family name, for the crime of being something other than what we were expected to be. I signed it myself.” The regret was cloying most days, a regret he lived with eternally in the back of his heart. He’d betrayed his closest living blood for cold, corporate expectations and a life he never picked nor thought outside of until he tasted the sweetest fruits that freedom from it could bear. But like a child who didn’t know what to do with it, he rejected the change for the empty safety of familiarity. He didn’t last long when the consequences caught up to him.

No one seemed to know what to say to that. Or at least, the alcohol had slowed them down enough that a silent moment passed to put any words together.

Perhaps they would see why they should have left him behind a long time ago.

 

“Have you considered therapy?”

“Leena!”

“What!? It’s a perfectly valid response!”

“He didn’t, duh. Didn’t you hear that speech? ‘A good Shimada heir doesn’t have feelings, enjoy things, or need help and talk to people’ could probably sum up the whole list plus a few more. People like that don’t care about hurting anyone they’re using, as long as it looks good on paper.”

“Yeah but this was, what, how long ago?”

“... Nine years, or close. Why?”

“Nine years ago, Jesus. Listen, Hanzo, I know a guy who knows a guy, he’s good. You can talk to him, figure your shit out and, fuck. Something.”

“Listen to yourself, you’re too drunk to be giving advice.”

“Like you’re any better.”

“Oh, I’m way better, you wanna hear my idea?”

“Bring it.”

“I say we fly to japan, and fight the entire fucking Shimad-asses who cooked this bullshit up. Teach them a lesson or two.”

“Kee, you’re brilliant. I love you.”

“Well, duh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did I give Hanzo so many friends? I hate writing this many people all at once, mother fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to hmu @ liedownquisition on tumblr. This is gonna be a bigger 'verse thing bcs I'm like nearly incapable of one-shotting (but only nearly).


End file.
